“You let Mother Nature guide you, I guess. You just do it.” Bill was speaking in hushed tones, almost whispering, as his grandson slept in his arms.
“So where are Ridge and Lani?” Ryder glanced out the window but the backyard looked empty.
“They’re in the guest room, fixing up a temporary crib for Leon. I’m holding the fort till they come back.”
Ryder gave his dad a smile of encouragement. “With the way little Leon's sleeping it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job.”
His father nodded slowly, as if to accept the compliment. “I try.”
When the brand new parents came back to the den Ryder gave Lani a hug and then he had to endure a bone-crushing embrace from his brother. “Okay, so you’re bigger than me and you’ve been working out. You don’t need to rub it in.” He flexed his shoulders, trying to get feeling back in his arms. “You’ve got a tiny baby to take care of now. You need to start practicing something called gentleness.”
“Not where you’re concerned, little bro. I’ve got to shake you up a bit. You’re always too serious.”
“Ridge, leave your brother alone.” Lani reached over and slapped her husband on the arm. “Just because you’re an inveterate joker doesn’t mean he has to be.”
“Yeah, Ridge, leave me alone. Listen to your wife. She wields a big stick.” Ryder was laughing as he ducked and shifted away from the cuff aimed at the back of his head.
Lani shook her head. “You’re such big kids. May I remind you that you’re both in your thirties? Time to grow up, guys.” The baby gave a soft mewl and she glanced over at him. “Okay,” she whispered, putting a finger to her lips, “get out of here before you wake the baby.”
Ridge jerked his head toward the door and both men left mommy, granddad and baby to bond. They headed for the rec room where Ridge immediately walked over to the pool table and picked up a stick. “Ten bucks says you can’t beat me.”
Ryder gave a snort. “Make it twenty and you’re on.”
It didn’t take Ryder long to whip his brother soundly. He stuck his hand out. “Pay up.” Then he scowled. “And don’t give me that age-old story about not having any money on you. That game’s old and tired and ready for the grave.”
“This time I really don’t.” Ryder patted his trouser pockets for emphasis. “Lani’s got my wallet.”
“Yeah, and you expect me to believe that.”
“Well, it’s the truth. You can ask her. I’ll pay you when we get back to the den. Promise.”
“Mmhmm.” Ryder still didn’t believe a word of it but he wasn’t going to press. “Forget about it,” he said with a wry grin. “Since you’re a brand new daddy I’ll let this one slide.” Then he flopped down onto the nearby sofa and put one foot up on the soft cushion.
Ridge stayed by the pool table and propped his behind on the edge. “So what about you?” he asked. “When are you going to get back on the bandwagon? You fall off the horse, you get right back on. Know what I mean?”
Ryder gave a noncommittal grunt. That was as much as Ridge was going to get out of him. Tact had never been his brother’s strong point. Although his brother didn’t know the reason, he was aware that his engagement to Karin was off. It would take a guy like Ridge to bring that up. “I could do with a drink,” Ryder said to him, ready to change the subject. “Bring me a beer, will you?”
To his surprise, Ridge stood up and without protest he headed off to the kitchen, leaving Ryder alone with his thoughts, at least for the moment. And right then he was wishing he could pick up the phone and call Blake. It had only been a week and a half since he’d left Pequoia but he was missing her like hell. But his longing was crowded out by another thought that was far from pleasant. It had nothing to do with Blake and everything to do with that one person he was trying hard to forget.
Knowing Karin as he did, he could tell something was up. The fact that she’d gone looking for him meant that things weren’t over, not as far as she was concerned.
And that could only spell trouble.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Peggy hurried up the driveway to Barbara’s house and rang the doorbell. What Barb could want to see her for at six o’clock on a Friday evening, she couldn’t tell.
After all, she’d already seen her friend this morning. They’d picked up groceries together at Samuel’s store. Then she shrugged. Whatever it was must be important because Barb had sent Theresa’s little boy to get her.
When over ten seconds passed and the door didn’t open Peggy rang the doorbell again. Still nothing. Then, frustrated at the wait after she’d worked herself into a sweat hurrying over there, she tried the knob. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when the door swung open.
Peggy pushed it open wider and peered in. “Barb, I’m here.” There was no answer so she stepped into the foyer. “Barbara.” Her second call echoed in the house but again, there was no answer. Peggy gave a soft hiss of annoyance. Knowing Barbara, she’d made this arrangement and then forgotten all about it. She was probably tucked away in bed, lost in a good book, not remembering that she should be expecting a visitor.
“Barbara,” she yelled a third time and then she was walking down the hallway, intent on finding her friend, grumbling as she went. She was marching past the dining room when she stopped short. Good heavens.
She turned and stared at the dining table, a piece of furniture Barbara hardly used because she always hung out in the kitchen. This evening the usually bare table was elegantly decorated with a collection of red and white scented candles clustered in the center of a circle of tiny bowls filled with rose petals. On one side of the table were covered dishes from which wafted the delicious aroma of food and on the other side were two tall-stemmed glasses and a dewy silver wine bucket from which the top of a bottle stuck.
“That little devil.” The words left Peggy’s mouth in a soft whisper, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure. Barbara Bonner was something else. Her friend was giving her a taste of her own medicine, playing the same trick on her that she'd played on Blake and Ryder. That was what you got for letting your friend in on your secret.
And then, like she guessed would happen, there was a knock at the door. She didn’t have to open it to know who was standing on the front porch and, poor thing, he was probably as much in the dark as she’d been.